Hey guys! I'm actually very excited about this one. I started writing a story like over a year ago, but then thought that it would be better if I wrote a story explaining how that one all turned out...so basically I started writing the sequel first xD but decided hey might as well tell the whole story you know? Anyway I hope you like it, I'm mostly excited for the sequel xD I'm sorry it's so short, my first chapter is always kinda short but I really hope you all like it and check out my other stories, it would mean a lot! 3 -Alyssa
Sometimes, nobody can see what's going on underneath someone's bright and cheery mask. Some people hide a dark soul, filled with pain, misery, and sorrow, underneath a happy and cheerful disposition. Pain doesn't discriminate. It can be anyone who suffers. From the outcast of the group to the most popular person in school.
Even a hit singer in a pop group.
Celebrities have fallen victim to the dangerous disease of depression. Johnny Depp, Robin Williams, Demi Lovato, Angelina Jolie, Lady Gaga, just to name a few. People think that just because they're celebrities, because they have the life everyone wants, money, fame, that they have nothing to be "depressed" about. But the fact is, it's completely the opposite. Celebrities are normal people, just like the rest of the world. They have problems, fears, emotions, feelings, just like everyone else. They are normal people, just like us, a lot of them poor, depressed souls stitched together under broken skin.
Just like Logan Mitchell.
Logan walked the sidewalks of L.A. with his hood drawn over his eyes and hands stuck in his pockets. He went on with his head tilted towards the ground, the rain drenching his back. The streets, usually sunny and cheerful, were now dark and soaked, the rain making it almost impossible to see. But Logan didn't care; this was a walk he had taken thousands of times. It was a usual routine to go for a walk when he was feeling stressed, and the fact that it was raining didn't bother him; in fact, it made it better. He adored the rain, it calmed him down to watch it drench the land, soaking up every bit of earth it could seek out. He felt connected to the rain, in a way, for it seemed as if it called to him in his time of sadness.
And now would've been one of those moments.
He sighed as he stopped at a crosswalk. He gazed up into the dark sky, the rain pelting his face like bullets, stinging his skin. Thunder roared loudly as lightning flashed in the sky, lighting up the darkened streets. Hollywood definitely didn't look the same when it was downpouring like that. He decided he should probably be heading back home before the storm gets any worse. They got pretty bad at that time of year in Hollywood.
He dashed across the street, not caring about the rain puddles he was splashing in. The water splashed up from the ground and onto his clothes, but he honestly didn't care. That day was not being very kind to him, and a little water was the least of his worries. As he ran, he nearly slipped several times, his face almost crashing into the wet concrete. He caught himself on a fence post, his fingers desperately trying to cling onto the wet metal. Strangers quickly passed by him like he was nothing. He paid them no attention, for he was used to being ignored and forgotten. To them, he was just another stranger on the street with a wet rain coat on. They couldn't see what was going on underneath those drenched clothes and tired eyes. They couldn't see who he was. Covering up his false identity was easy for him-no one knew he was famous, no one knew he was chased by hundreds of girls every single day, they only saw him as another human being, not anymore important than they were. But even if they did know who he was, they would never truly see him, for his true identity would never be known. He pulled himself up, stuck his hands back in his pockets, and moved on.
He approached the Palm Woods completely drenched from head to toe in water. He slammed the door to the lobby shut behind him and leaned his back against the door, taking a deep breath, collecting himself. "Home." He whispered to himself. He wasn't quite sure why he uttered that word to himself, for he ever so wanted to spend more time in the rain.
"You're soaking up the carpet!" A voice rung out through the lobby. Logan watched as Mr. Bitters came out from the back and leaned on the desk from behind it. "You guys are always ruining my lobby somehow. Either go back outside or get up to your apartment."
Logan didn't say anything. He just glared at Bitters with angry eyes, and shook the rain off of him before heading over to the elevators and angrily slamming his finger against the button. But he grew even more furious whenever the elevator took too long, so he grunted in frustration and stormed up the stairs in quite a speed, Bitters watching him, confused.
Logan flung the hood off his head and threw the door open to 2J. "Logan! We've been looking for you everywhere. Are you ok? You're soaking wet! We've been worried sick!" Mrs. Knight said. She rushed over to Logan and took his jacket from him. LOgan just stood there, speechless, and stared at the ground, the only sound emitting from him was a depressed sigh. "Logan? Are you alright, sweetie?"
Logan's tired eyes met hers and the guys' with a tired gaze. He was glad it was raining, or else they would've noticed the tears running down his face. "Just hasn't been my day. I wanted to get out." He finally said, his voice in a half whisper. Mrs. Knight stroked his cheek and handed him a towel.
"It's ok, sweetie. I can make you some hot chocolate if you want." She said. Logan forced a smile and shook his head.
"That's ok. Thank you though, Mrs. Knight." The sadness in his voice wasn't totally undetectable, because Kendall, James, and Carlos noticed and nodded at each other before speaking up.
"If you're upset because of what happened at the studio, it's ok, Logan." Carlos said, setting his wii remote down on the coffee table. He stood up off the couch and stuck his hands in his pockets. "It was just an off day, bud. Everyone messes up lyrics and misses notes."
Kendall stood up and elbowed Carlos in the side. Carlos yelped in pain as Kendall walked over to Logan. He placed a hand on his friend's shoulder and smiled. "It'll be alright, bud. Carlos is right, everyone has off days sometimes, and it's ok to be angry or upset sometimes, and sometimes a walk in the rain is alright. It's just good you have a positive outlet for your anger. Tomorrow's a better day, alright?" Kendall slapped Logan on the back and motioned towards the couch. "Wanna come play Mario Kart with us? We got an extra controller just for you."
Logan faked a smile and pushed some of his wet hair off his face. "That's ok, Kendall. I'm gonna go shower, maybe I'll come down after. I wanna get out of these wet clothes."
Kendall nodded. "Alright. The remote's on the table waiting for you when you come down."
Logan smiled and nodded as he headed up the stairs. "Thanks." He called out over his shoulder. He dashed up the stairs, getting quicker with each step he took. His breath grew heavier and heavier with each step he took. The memories of the day and all the stress of his life was weighing in on him and he began breaking down. He reached the room he and Kendall shared and dashed into the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind him. He gripped the edges of the sink and gritted his teeth, trying his hardest not to burst into tears, for everyone downstairs would hear him and suspect something. He took several deep breathes before shakingly removing his clothes and tossing them aside, grabbing something out of the medicine cabinet before stepping into the shower and turning it on, his skin stinging with absolute pain as soon as the water hit against him.
He just stood there in silence for several moments before raising a shaking hand into the air and taking the object he grabbed, a small razor blade, and giving his left wrist a large gash, extending from one end of his wrist to the other.
Blood poured from his skin, mixing in with the water and puddling at his feet, disappearing into the drain, bit being replaced by more scarlet liquid. Logan gritted his teeth as he repeated the action, causing an even bigger gash than before. A slight groan escaped his lips, but he bit it all back, and forced himself to watch as his own life poured from him. He leaned his head back and let the water run down his face, and sighed. "Why?" He asked himself. "Why the fuck am I like this? I shouldn't be like this."
But I deserve it.
This was something he was all too used to. Previous cuts and scars covered both arms, legs, and torso. Two years. For two whole years he had kept his dirty little secret, and no one knew. His excuse for not going swimming? It changed all the time. He was sick. Didn't feel comfortable. Had a nightmare about drowning and it scared him. He didn't care if it made him sound stupid, but he made up any excuse he could think of. And no one suspected a thing, because a famous and happy pop star like Logan Mitchell couldn't possibly be depressed, right?
He just stood there in the shower for the longest time with his head down, letting the water run down his body, clear mixing in with red and making his head spin. He didn't care, though. He deserved it. He believed he did. No, he knew.
He finally decided enough was enough and turned off the water, shaking his hair as he stepped out of the shower. He quickly grabbed a towel and wrapped it tightly around his arm to stop the bleeding. He always counted his lucky stars that he was going to be a doctor, because he could bandage himself up without anyone noticing, or without an infection spreading.
He sprayed on some antiseptic, wincing as the pain seared across his flesh, and wrapped a bandage around the wounded area. He stuffed the bloody towel underneath his mattress and put some clothes on, brushing his hair neatly, and slumped down the stairs with his hands stuck in his pockets, his fingers trembling with every move he made.
"Hey! Logan! Ready to play?" Carlos called over, swiping a controller off the table and waving it in the air. "I'm kicking ass over here though, I'm not so sure if you wanna go against me or not."
"Go fuck yourself, and your ego." James said, smirking. "Come kick his ass for us, Logan. You're good at this damn game."
"James is just mad cause he isn't." Kendall said, laughing. James smacked him across the face with a pillow, and Kendall retaliated with another pillow.
"Guys, knock it off, you're going to break something!" Mrs. Knight called from the laundry room. "And don't think I don't know what you're doing in there, I can see everything!"
"You coming to play or what, buddy?" Carlos called over to Logan. Logan looked at them with lonely and blank eyes and forced a smile and walked over to them, sitting down in the middle. They handed him a controller and he just jumped right in, laughing and talking with them as if he was normal, as if everything was perfectly ok and everyone was happy, but deep down he was hurting, he was in pain and he couldn't help it, and he couldn't help the fact that he knew he would never be happy like them ever again, like he used to be.